NYC Angels: One Night in Manhattan

No one at Angel Mendez Children's Hospital understands why Brandon Bishop, the talented, charismatic head of neurosurgery, wants to give up his positionand life in New Yorkfor a research job in California. But Brandon has his own, deeply personal reasons for pursuing brain injury research on the West Coast. And so, with a month left in Manhattan, Brandon's not looking to get attached.

Yet when he meets Olivia Bowen at the local bar, neither can deny their attraction or resist spending the night together. They both agree it's a one-time dealno strings attached. Until Olivia reports for her first day of a nursing placement at Angel's. In Brandon's department. Suddenly, sticking to "one night" seems impossible, and "no strings" is a promise neither can keep

Chapter Five

No, Brandon assured himself. Trina's surgery hadn't taken any longer than exactly how long he'd needed to suction the pooled blood from her brain and to repair the damaged vessels. She'd had three bleeds that he'd found via the computer enhanced imaging.

He'd not put the removed bone flap back into place, nor had he put a metal plate in. Instead, he'd opted to leave the bone flap open and to leave a drain in place under the skin to remove blood and fluid from the surgical area. He'd sutured the muscles and skin back together.

Once assured there weren't any more acute bleeds and her ICP was stable, he'd go back in and put in a metal plate to protect the soft brain tissue beneath. For now a soft adhesive dressing covered the area.

Lord, he hoped he'd have reason to go back in and add that metal plate.

Thus far, Trina had done well. He'd been able to repair the blood vessels and to successfully remove the pooled blood without causing any additional tissue trauma.

But who knew how much damage the elevated ICP had already done? Enough to cause her to seize. Enough that when he'd used electrical stimulation of the brain tissue not all of her nerves had responded appropriately.

They wouldn't know how successful the surgery was for a few weeks, maybe months. But if he'd failed, if he'd missed a bleed, then Trina would be in trouble again.

He'd have let down another person, another family.

"Are you okay?" Olivia placed her hand on his shoulder, gently massaged the area.

Brandon tensed. He hadn't heard Olivia enter his office. Although her touch both soothed him and excited him, he pulled away from her hand. "I didn't hear you knock."

Looking confused, she stepped back from his chair. "But I did knock."

"When I didn't answer you thought it was okay to just go ahead and come in?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Why are you here?"

Her lips compressed into a tight line and her shoulders hitched up. "I wasn't sure what you wanted me to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you pulled me off the floor to go into surgery with you and my patients were reassigned." Confusion and hurt shone in her eyes. "What do you want me to do now, boss?"

Guilt hit him. He shouldn't have snapped at her. He really wasn't meant for relationships. All he did was hurt the people he cared about in one way or another. "Do you mind following Trina?"

"I'd love to follow her."

"Fine. Then that's what you'll do. Go to the recovery room and stay with her until she's transferred to the floor. She's yours until you clock out tonight."

Her gaze narrowed slightly, but then she nodded, then turned as if to go, but paused. "Are you okay, Brandon?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," she mused, looking uncertain. "Just that you haven't seemed yourself since this morning."

He hadn't been okay since the day Beverly had been hit by a car, but he wouldn't tell her that.

He didn't want her to know his shame, didn't want to see the pity and condemnation in her eyes if she knew what he'd allowed to happen to his sister whilst she'd been in his care.

"How would you have me act, Olivia?" he asked, his voice harsh. "There's a young girl in recovery who may never regain full brain function, who may not live through the next few days. Forgive me if I don't appear overjoyed at the moment."

Her spine stiffened and he'd swear she almost hissed at him. "No, forgive me for being concerned about you."

She spun on her heel and had reached the door handle, when he stopped her.

"I'm sorry." For more than he could ever make up for. To Olivia. To his parents. To his sister.

Olivia paused, but didn't face him.

"I shouldn't have growled at you."

"Agreed."

"I just " What could he say?

"You just what?" she pressed.

"I'm sorry, that's all, but you shouldn't be in my office." Not right now. Not while he was in such a funk.

Her face flushed pink. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I thought you wanted me here."

This time when he tried to stop her from leaving, she shrugged away his hand and hurried out the door.

***

Olivia checked the position of Trina's breathing tube, checked the readouts on her vital signs. Temperature, pulse, oxygen saturation, blood pressure, all were good.

Anticonvulsants and steroids were being given via her intravenous line.

The girl hadn't regained consciousness while in recovery, and was unlikely to for many hours, perhaps not for days, or even weeks. Once she'd been stable for the appropriate length of time, she'd been transferred to the neuroscience intensive-care unit for continued close observation. Once the girl was settled, Olivia would go to the waiting area and get Trina's parents. Angel's believed in having a family member at bedside as much as absolutely possible.

Unfortunately when she got to the waiting room, Brandon was sitting with Trina's mother. No one else was in the waiting area.

Why had he acted the way he had earlier? He'd never been cold to her, but she couldn't describe the way he'd behaved any other way. Now, he looked like his normal self. Had the stress of surgery gotten to him?

He held Mrs. Jones's hand and spoke softly to her. The woman nodded, seeming to understand what he was saying and empathizing with his words.

Olivia found herself mesmerized by how he interacted with the woman, at the great compassion he had. Although she couldn't make out his words, she'd swear that his voice had just broken.

"Thank you for all you've done." Trina's mother patted his hand. "May God bless you for the good you do."

Brandon's face turned ashen and, standing, he swallowed hard. "I'm only human and only did my job. Trina should be settled into her NSICU room now."

"She is."

Brandon and Trina's mother's gazes jerked to Olivia. Olivia swallowed. She'd swear an arctic wind just swept through the room.

"She's not regained consciousness, but her vitals are stable." Olivia kept her gaze on Mrs. Jones, although she could feel Brandon's gaze upon her, but when she looked at him, he glanced away, unwilling to meet her eyes. What was going on? "When you're finished, I'll take you to your daughter."

"Yes, please, now. I want to be with my daughter." The woman turned to Brandon. "If that's okay?"

He nodded. "Be prepared that she's hooked to a lot of monitors and her ventilator is still in place."

The woman swallowed hard. "She can't breathe on her own?"

Brandon shrugged. "It's not a chance we're going to take right now. Once she regains consciousness we'll go from there and get her off the ventilator as quickly as possible."

Looking exhausted, the woman nodded. "Can someone let my husband know where I am? He's gone to check on our son. Jeffrey's not dealing so well with this."

Brandon's skin paled. "Later, if he wanted to and you feel he is strong enough to deal with how she'll look, your son can visit her."

"He can? We were told that only my husband and I would be allowed into the room for a while, and then only one at a time and with a lot of precaution to prevent infection."

The skin pulled tight over his cheekbones, Brandon looked the woman straight in the eye. "If her brother wants to come in to see her, yes, I'd not only allow it, I'd encourage it."

Olivia gave him an odd look. Although Angel's encouraged having a parent at their child's bedside, they didn't usually want other children in the room due to the risk of infection, etc. Why would Brandon bend the rules in this case?

What was up with his odd behavior? Sure he was leaving soon, but for him to bend the rules just rang of something more going on than what met the eye. He wasn't acting himself.

Then again, who was she to say he wasn't acting himself? Just because she felt as if she knew him better than she'd ever known any person didn't mean she did.

He was leaving in a week.

Just the thought of Angel's without him was enough to make her ribcage tighten around her lungs. Just the thought of not sleeping in his arms was enough to make another organ in her chest ache.

"Olivia?"

She blinked, realizing that she'd been gazing off into space. Brandon and Mrs. Jones had finished their conversation and were both staring at her oddly.

"Sorry."Her cheeks burned."You were saying?"

"Take Mrs. Jones to see her daughter."

She nodded, smiled at the poor woman."Follow me."

She waited for her to join where she stood at the edge of the waiting area, then risked one last glance at Brandon.

This time, his eyes bore into hers and she knew that despite their disagreement earlier, he'd be at her place the moment he got off work.

Good, that's exactly where she wanted him.

With her.

For another week.

That was all.

The ache in her chest was only sadness that she only had another week to be with a man so amazing and not because she'd fallen for the man himself.

***

Placing a kiss against her temple, Brandon cradled the woman in his arms closer to him. One more week. Then he'd never see her again.

The thought bothered him more than it should.

He'd gone into this knowing they were short term. That they weren't starting a relationship. That he wasn't relationship material. He shouldn't be involved with her at all and wouldn't be if he weren't leaving.

Only he felt as if he were in a relationship with Olivia. The best relationship of his life. He spent all his time outside of work with her. He spent a lot of his time at work with her. Including when he shouldn't.

She'd been right to be upset that he'd gotten her to go into surgery. He'd been wrong to do so and he knew it. But he'd pulled rank because he'd wanted her there.

No, he'd needed her there.

She was a good nurse. One of the best he'd ever worked with. But he'd be lying if he said that was why he'd needed her in that operating room.

He'd needed her there as a distraction from Trina. Which was crazy. All his focus should have been on the nine-year-old. In most ways it had been. He'd been one hundred percent dedicated to repairing her bleed and doing everything he could to give her the best outcome she could have.

"Why did you have me go into surgery with you today?"

Had she read his mind?

"We were short-handed and Trina's surgery wasn't on schedule. You were needed."

"True, but there had to be someone on call?"

There were issues with being involved with a smart woman and her questions were prime examples. "There was," he admitted. "I wanted you."

"Why?"

He pulled away from her enough to look into her face. "Do you always ask so many questions?"

He didn't even try to pretend nonchalance. He couldn't have anyway. There was no way she didn't feel the tensing of his body. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and brushed his lips against her hair. "Why wouldn't Trina get to me? She's an innocent kid and her entire life, her entire future just changed. If she even survives."

"She will." Olivia sounded so confident, that he pulled back to where he could see her face again.

"How can you be so sure?"

She shrugged. "Because you need her to be."

How could she possibly know him so well in such a short time?

"All of your patients are kids who have something wrong with them that changes their entire life, their entire future, and that of their family's. So I ask again, what's different about Trina?"

"What makes you think something is different?"

She had the audacity to laugh. "You're kidding me, right? Of course there's something different. I've never seen you act the way you did today."

"And you've known me so long." He knew he'd said the wrong thing before he felt her body stiffen, before she sat up.

"See, this is what I mean. You've never been snappy before and today you've snapped at me twice." She reached for an oversize T-shirt beside her bed. "You don't have to answer me if you don't want to, Brandon, but don't insult my intelligence by insinuating that I'm imagining that Trina's case gets to you."

She was right of course.

"Fine. I don't want to talk about it."

She latched on to his comment. "So you admit there is an it?"

He sighed. "I don't admit anything, except that I am done with this conversation. We aren't in a real relationship, Olivia, so there's no need to go digging into my psyche just because I don't want to talk about Trina."

"You're right," she tossed back at him. "It's time for us to be done with our pretend relationship, too."

That had him stopping in his tracks. "But we have another week."

"No, you have another week," she pointed out, reaching for some yoga pants. "I have two months left in Manhattan."

Another week. He'd be in California. She'd be here. For two months. "Then where will you go?"

"That's none of your business." At his look, she rolled her eyes. "I don't know where they will send me next. I likely won't know for another couple of weeks. I sometimes don't find out my next location until right before I leave. I'm flexible that way."

"How do you plan visits with your family if you don't know where you'll be until last minute?"

Without looking up, she straightened her pants, smoothed her body. "I make it home a few times a year. That's more than enough to remind me why I chose the life I did."

Which left him with more questions than answers.

"What about you?"

His gaze met hers and he shrugged. "My parents are divorced."

She nodded as if she'd suspected as much. "Do they live in New York?"

"My father does. My mother relocated with her new husband. They're in Connecticut now. What about you? Where is home?" he asked to get the focus off him and back on her.

"South Carolina."

"That explains the accent."

Crossing her arms in a self hug, she sat down on the bed and looked a little lost.

"Any brothers or sisters?"

She shook her head.

"I've heard you talking to your mother several times over the past few weeks." Always stilted conversations that left her a little standoffish for a few minutes before she'd return to her usual cheery self. Then again if someone listened in on his rare conversations with his mother, they'd probably call them stilted, too. Or worse. "What about your father?"

His father had turned to the bottle after Bev's death and his marriage fell apart. Brandon blamed himself. After all, Bev never would have gotten hurt had he been watching her closer. His father never would have taken up the bottle. His parents never would have gotten divorced. He'd destroyed the lives of the three people he loved most. Which was why he'd kept his relationships to a minimum. No need to risk hurting anyone else.

"I don't want to talk about my family with you," Olivia sounded defensive and a bit sarcastic."Like you said, there's no point."

Her comment said it all. There wasn't a point. In a week they'd say goodbye and never see each other again.

Exactly as they'd said from the beginning.

As if she hadn't just knocked his feet out from under him, she stood."I'm going to make a sandwich. You want anything?"

What he wanted was for her to get back into bed and talk to him.

"I want you," he admitted, not able to think of anything else he wanted more.

She frowned."You just had me."

Sex wasn't what he'd meant. Which didn't sit well. They were supposed to be about sex and nothing more. He was about to move across the country to start work at a research facility that would enable him to hopefully make leaps and bounds in the regeneration of neurons. This was the wrong time in his life for a real relationship. Especially one that was doomed to fail before it even got off its feet.

And what if he hurt Olivia? Just the possibility made his stomach ache.

He raked his fingers through his hair. "Come back to bed, Olivia."

"No." Had she crossed her arms and stomped her feet he wouldn't have been surprised.

"Please. I just want to hold you." More than he liked admitting he wanted to hold her.

She rolled her eyes. "That's what you always say."

"I hold you each and every time I say that."

She narrowed her gaze and didn't budge from where she stood.

"I do," he insisted.

She continued to frown.

"Okay, fine, you're right. I usually hold you after we've made love."

"Had sex," she corrected.

"Word play doesn't change what we share."

Her brow lifted and her gaze bore into him."You're saying we've been making love?"

His stomach clenched into a tight knot. She'd read too much into it if he said they'd been making love. Women did that. He wasn't exactly sure how to label their relationship, but he knew one thing for sure. "What we share is a lot more than just sex."

She stared at him a moment, then, her face bland and disconnected from him, she shook her head. "No, Brandon, you're wrong. All we share is some phenomenal sexual attraction, compatible bodies, and nothing more."